Witches and Vampires
by Allen Bedillion Trahurn
Summary: The prequel to "Witches Man, Witches," detailing the life of Erik Altezio and Minora Scaife before their time at Shibusen. REVISED, please R&R.
1. Prologue: Eriks Story

_**Witches and Vampires**_  
_A.B.T._

Erik's Story

The sun hung lazily in the sky, the temperature finally beginning to wane even as the floating orb, exhausted and panting from the long day, resisted still it's impending descent. An hour or so later, the children would be called back inside to eat a meager dinner and then, only a few hours after that, they would be in their beds, recharging for another day. It was the same routine every day in _El Mundo del Dios_, the only orphanage in this no name village in South America. Surrounding the village itself was dense jungle with only one break in the trees – the singular dirt road that led in and out of town, which in turn led to the next nearest town, filled with Enchanters.  
While the other children played in the yard, one stood away from them, hands intertwined in the links of the rusted old chain-link fence mean to keep the children from wandering off into the giant death trap that was the surrounding jungle. After all, children were prime targets for the creatures of the wild: weak and defenseless. The orphanage was run by a convent (with a name like _El Mundo del Dios_, this fact wasn't all that surprising) and, because of this, it was also a Catholic primary school, where all the children wore the same bland uniform – a black jacket worn over a black vest which was, in turn, worn over a white button up shirt, followed by a pair of black shorts with a black belt to hold them up, and black shoes worn over black socks. This boy, standing on his own and looking through the tiny bars of the fence, was no exception to this rule, though it was a wonder as to why, in one of the hottest places in the world, they were made to wear so much black. But he, like other children, accepted it because, in the long run, what could they really do about it?  
With a sigh, the boy ran a hand through his hair, cut in a short bowl cut like the rest of the boys in El Mundo, and silently hated it. He put that hand deep into his pocket – empty save for some lint – and continued to look through the chain links with his steel blue, almost grey eyes. Opposite him, on the other side of the street, was an older looking man with a saxophone, playing a slow song that seemed to creep into the heart with a melody so sorrowful that the boy couldn't help but appreciate it. He thought it sounded nice, though he didn't have the capacity to relate it to what his life had become. Once the saxophonist was finished with his bluesy song, he crossed the dirt road and sat with his back against the fence, and in turn to the boy. The child expected this and sat also; leaning back against the fence in what had become a daily ritual for the two.  
"Hey there, _ni__ño _What's happenin' on your side of the world?" the man said, his voice something like a Spanish jazz hipster. The sunglasses he wore hid his eyes from view, though a calm smile played on his weathered tan face. The boy heard a rustling and knew that the man behind him was reaching into the pocket of his faded and torn canvas jacket. Furthermore, he knew that the item he would pull from it would be a silver zippo lighter and a pack of cigarettes, a brand that sported no label other than a black pack. Sure enough, the boy heard the metallic click and the grating sound of the zippo before the smell of tobacco filled his nostrils.  
"Same as every day," the boy said, his voice decidedly American. This was something to be expected, since his parents were from America before they had died. The boy was seven then, and it had been three years since.  
"Nah," the man said after a long, slow drag from his cigarette, "That's where you're wrong, _niño. _No one day is ever the same as the last. Life is always changing, _¿lo pillas? _Even our little thing here is different every day," the man replied, laughing a little.  
"What do you mean?" asked the ten year old, somewhat confused by the concept.  
"Well, you can't say you were sitting exactly in that spot yesterday, can you?" the man asked simply, looking back over his shoulder at the boy, who was now sitting with a hand on his chin, thinking.  
"No…I guess I can't, huh?" the boy answered finally, now digging random patterns into the ground with his finger, "But if life is always changing, why doesn't it feel like it?" An image of his parents passed through his mind as he spoke, and tears threatened to form in his eyes, but he stifled them: he was too old to cry. He let out a sniffle and rubbed his eyes.  
"Now, _niño, _thing may seem to be goin' nowhere right now, but you give it time and things will start going your way, I can promise you that, one cat to another. And don't worry about those tears, neither. If you keep your emotions all bottled up, you'll regret it." The boy said nothing in response, but took some solace in the man's words.  
"Take it from Sad Sax Samm, _niño_: life will go your way, so long as you keep it the way you want it,_ ¿lo pillas?_" The boy nodded slowly before his head whipped up in attention at the shrill voice of one of the Sisters calling for him to come inside.

"Well Samm, I gotta go. I'll see you tomorrow," the boy said, standing and dusting himself off before joining the other children. He didn't know that this would be the last time he saw the street busker just as he didn't know that the very next day would lead to a very new and very dangerous existence. All he knew, at that moment, was the calling of his name as he slipped through the doors leading into _El Mundo del Dios_ Orphanage: Erik Altezio.


	2. Out of the Frying Pan

The next day, at around the same time, the children of _El Mundo_ were released into the yard and, as was custom, Erik made his way to the fence, looking around for his musician companion. To his disappointment, Samm was nowhere to be seen.

_"That's strange…"_ he thought, frowning as he put both his hands up to the fence and leaned into it, trying to see as far down the road as he could, looking both ways several times. All that he could see was the small market across the street, filled with various fruits and vegetables native to the area, the so called "Post Office" that seemed more like an unmanned kiosk that some man carrying a khaki satchel would check in at every morning before going back up the road from whence he came. Then, at the end of the road, there was the Catholic Church, which ran the convent which, in turn, ran the orphanage. Other than these things, there was nothing for the boy to see, save for two older men who were walking by the fence slowly, deep in conversation.

"Have you heard what's been happening a few towns over?" asked one man, his voice low as if he were trying to keep a secret.

"What, you mean the rumors of people going missing in the jungle?"

"_Sí! _And people say that at night they see strange lights past the trees. Some people are even afraid to leave their houses," then, with a swift glance around (missing Erik entirely) the man leaned in close to his friend, whispering something Erik couldn't quite catch. The other man's eyes grew wide and he let out a short gasp.

"No…you can't mean…after 800 years? Has anyone contacted Lord Death about the situation?" The other man laughed at this, looking at his friend as if he were a fool.

"Lord Death? He's too busy hunting would be Kishins to pay attention little villages like ours, and even if he would people are too afraid to leave their homes, let alone leave town. Besides, Death City is a whole country away." The other man nodded his response, furrowing his brow as he took this information in. Erik, meanwhile, followed their progress as much as he could, hanging onto their every word.

"Hey, where's that beggar?"

"What beggar?"

"The one with the saxophone. He's usually playing around this time of day."

"Oh him," said the other man, "I heard he was a traveler, but I bet that whatever's out there got him." Neither man had noticed Erik following them, the expression on his young face ever darkening as they spoke about his friend. It was when they again called him "beggar" that he spoke up, his voice low and threatening.

"Samm." At this, both men looked down at the ten year old, obviously surprised by his presence.

"Excuse me, young man?" said one, and Erik could tell now, from the man's well-pressed clothes to the stench of his cologne, that this man was nothing more than some rich asshole that treated the people below him like scum.

"Samm. That was his name – Sad Sax Samm. Don't you ever call him less again. He wasn't a beggar, he was a man…a musician. Don't forget that." Both men, taken aback by the way the boy had just spoken to them, merely walked away, taking quick glances back at the boy as they took the conversation out of his reach. Erik sighed and slumped down against the fence, noticing only vaguely the patterns that he had gouged into the ground the day before were still there. He didn't try to hold back the tears this time, letting them fall silently down his cheeks.

_"He didn't just leave…I know that he wouldn't…what's going on…people disappearing…lights in the jungle…"_

"Hey…are you okay?" a girl's voice came from nearby. Erik opened his eyes and noticed a blonde girl around his age. He'd seen her before, but he couldn't say that she was a friend. None of the children in _El Mundo_ were. Wiping his eyes, he looked away from her.

"I'm fine."

"Really? 'Cause you don't look fine. What's wrong?" she asked, and from her tone she sounded as if she were sincerely wanted to help, which surprised the boy. He barely knew her, didn't even know her name, so why was she trying to be so nice to him?

"I'm fine, really," he replied, looking at her with the best please-get-out-of-my-face gaze he could muster. Unfortunately, she didn't seem to take notice.

"Is it about that beggar guy? The one with the horn you were talking to yesterday?"

"He isn't a beggar!" Erik snapped at her, though he didn't really mean for it, "He was good man...someone trying to find his way…like me." Erik looked at the girl's shocked face, waiting for her to slap him, or cry, or do something – anything – to show her anger with him. He was surprised when instead she smiled innocently at him. She didn't look hurt in any way; she didn't snap back at him or do any number of horrible things out of her anger. No, instead she just flashed that small smile and, with a swift movement, pecked him on the cheek. His hand darted up to the spot when she leaned away, and his face began to burn though he wasn't sure why.

"It's going to be okay," she said, walking away with hands clasped behind her back, and as she walked away he wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe Samm, his only friend, now missing. He wanted to believe with all his soul that things would be okay…but deep down he knew they wouldn't. His parents were gone, he was alone, and he was stuck behind the rusted chain-link fence at his back. On top of this, he could barely remember what his life in America was like, and he was sure that whatever family he once had thought he was dead.

"There isn't anything for me here," he said finally, standing, "Samm was my only friend. I have to believe that he's okay…and I'm going to find him." It was then that he made his plan, his great escape from the purgatory his life had become. He would find Samm and they would leave this no-name town. Erik toyed with the thought of them living on the run as father and son, but dismissed it. That would be a little over the top. But they would find their place in the world, he knew it. With all these inspirational thoughts running through his head, he was able to walk through the doors of _El Mundo_ with a smile on his face. It was decided: he would leave tonight, and he wouldn't look back.

_Midnight_

Erik opened his eyes, the blinking light from the small wristwatch on the small stand next to his cot blinking and beeping. The watch had been given to him by his father for his seventh birthday, a date that seemed so long ago. He was ashamed that he could barely remember what his father looked like, and was equally ashamed when the same could be said for his mother. He realized, at that moment, that the only reason he was in_ El Mundo_ was because of that day, though the exact details had escaped him long ago. He remembered getting on an airplane, and people panicking as it went down, but that was it. And, though the details were lost to the dark recesses of his memory, Erik knew that it was a day he would never forget.

Pressing a button to silence the watch, Erik quietly lifted himself from the cot and sneaked to the door, picking up the backpack he had left next to it before going to sleep. Inside it he had packed some provisions from the kitchen, all stolen: a half loaf of bread, a jug of water, and some random fruits. He felt bad for the theft, but he didn't have much of a choice – he would need food for his journey, and if he was going to leave he would need to be prepared. He stepped through the door and closed it quietly before walking lightly down the hall, passing the girls dormitory and noticing only briefly that the door was ajar. He tried to hurry past it, afraid that one of the Sisters was on the inside. Perhaps she was tending to one of the girls who couldn't sleep. At the end of the hallway was a window that led to the roof outside, as well as his freedom, and he couldn't afford to be caught now. He closed his eyes and winced as he heard the door of the girls dormitory squeak on its hinges, and waited patiently for the older woman that was surely behind him to ask exactly where he thought he was going. However, when he looked back there was no one. With a sigh of relief he opened the window slowly and climbed up on the sill, stepping out onto the tile roof.

"Goodbye," he whispered, though he wasn't sure why. He supposed he was saying it to the little blonde girl, or maybe he was saying it to Samm, whom he wasn't certain he would find. He shook his head at this thought, knowing he didn't have time for it. Turning on his heel, he walked to the edge of the roof and looked down at the ground below.

_"Maybe I shouldn't do it this way…there has to be an easier way, right?"_ he thought, the drop from the second floor looking a lot farther down than he thought. Tentatively, he reached out and dropped the backpack, hearing the soft thud and the rustling of the bush below less than a second after. It wasn't that far, right? He could jump it, or at least that was what he thought, before his slowly wandering eyes noticed the silvery gleam of the drain pipe to his right. With a smirk, he lowered himself down and, with a little maneuvering, was able to get a good grip, his feet against the wall of the building. With slow, deliberate motions, he began to climb down.

"_Aye Dios mio! _One of the children!" he heard from above, and the sudden scream caused him to jump, losing his grip and sliding down the pipe before he felt his hand catch on something, perhaps a loose nail or a piece of jutting metal. His senses were overwhelmed by an explosion of hot pain in his left palm before he felt the sensation of falling, followed shortly after by more pain in his back.

"Ow…ow…that wasn't supposed to happen…" he said through clenched teeth, biting back the pain. After a few minutes of just lying there (and listening to the Sisters frantically calling his name inside the building. When he opened his eyes again, ignoring the sudden nausea he felt, he saw the moon resting high above him in a cloudless sky, laughing.

"Yeah yeah very funny…" he muttered, forcing himself to stand. He stretched, putting his hands on the small of his back and enjoying the satisfying feel of his spine popping in three short bursts – something he was sure wasn't actually supposed to happen. With a quick glance around, he found and retrieved his backpack a few steps away and, in doing so, noticed the jagged gash on his left hand, bleeding heavily. This also brought back the seething, throbbing pain from the wound.

"Great…" he said, opening the backpack and finding a small strip of cloth to wrap his hand with. Once done, and despite the ever intensifying pain, he heaved the bag up onto his shoulder and set out for the fence, more specifically the gate that stood between himself and the road. He had planned to just open it, but ran into a snag he hadn't thought about - a thick, though slightly rusted, padlock. He wiggled it a little, hoping it hadn't been fully locked, but had no such luck. With a short sigh he looked up to the top of the fence, knowing where his path would take him next. Entwining his fingers in the chain links, he began his slow climb, the fence making slight noises that, to him, sounded like huge steel girders grinding together. His injured hand protested quite loudly as well, and he favored the throbbing appendage as much as possible, reaching the top without too much difficulty. So far so good.

"Erik? Erik where are you?!" one of the Sisters cried from the window, and Erik counted himself that the fence wasn't touched by the light on the porch as he slowly began his descent on the other side. He found, reaching cautiously with his foot for a hold in the fence, that history had a habit of repeating itself when his foot slipped and he again fell flat on his back. He decided it was okay, and that he was luck he hadn't somehow cut open his other hand this time, but when he stood he noticed his jacket hat caught and was ripped along the forearm. He grumbled a bit but shrugged it off as he began his trek, following the road toward the next town. Behind him he heard the calls of more than the one Sister now, calling frantically for him to return. Wanting to avoid them as long as he could, he detoured off the road and into the jungle.

_Five Minutes Later_

"This was so stupid…why did I leave the road…" Erik muttered as he walked. The sound of the Sisters' cries had slowly faded away, giving way to an eerie kind of silence. Every once in a while he would hear the growl or call of some animal nearby, and he would see movement in the shadows that would turn out to be nothing, but mostly the only thing that stood out around him was his own breathing. After a while, his mind began to play tricks on him.

_"What was that…?"_ he thought, looking back and forth for the source of the latest noise he had heard: heavy breathing. After a few more moments of silence, he shook his head and, after taking a few deep breaths, continued walking.

"Just calm down Erik, there's nothing there. Just keep moving."

_Haaaaaaaaaahhh_

Erik jumped and looked around fearfully, his eyes wide. Though his vision had long since adjusted to the dark, he was still practically blind.

"Nothing there…" he muttered, voice more panicked now, trying to convince himself even though the sound seemed to be growing ever louder behind him. Finally, when it sounded as if it were right behind him, Erik picked up his pace and began running through the trees, not caring where he was gon as long as he got away from whatever it was that was chasing him. He sprinted for all he was worth, not stopping until he felt his legs burning and stabbing pain in his side. He leaned against a tree for support, his breath coming out in heavy, rasping pants and he felt that his heart was going to jump out of his chest. He ran a hand over his brow, covered in sweat, and tried to get his breathing under control. His injured hand was throbbing in time with his heartbeat, and only intensified when he heard someone speak.

"You run fast…_niño_…but not fast enough," came the voice, so very familiar yet so unfamiliar. Erik looked up with a look of pure terror on his face.

"…Samm?"

"Smart boy, but I'm afraid that Sad Sax Samm is no longer with us," said the voice, it's tone becoming more sinister, "You'd be surprised to know that he put up quite the fight. Apparently a former Three Star Meister from the DWMA is still a threat without a Weapon partner." Erik felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand as two red points appeared a few feet away in the shadows. He tried to back away from them but found himself stuck against the tree he had been resting against. The twin points of light grew closer, and Erik came to the realization that they were eyes, and within moments the owner of these glowing red eyes was mere inches away from him, the stench of its breath carrying the overwhelming stench of rotten meat. Erik felt a shiver run down his spine as something cold and metallic touched against his throat.

"You have an interesting soul, _niño_," the man said, adopting Samm's voice once more, only fueling Erik's fear, "I wonder what it tastes like. Guess I'll find out soon enough!" Erik struggled a bit, trying to free himself, but a hand slammed forward and held him fast against the tree with inhuman strength. The blade slowly broke the skin of his throat and Erik closed his eyes, expecting death. But it never happened. Suddenly, the pressure left his chest, the blade disappearing from the thin wound on his throat. With a fluttering of his eyelids, Erik let his consciousness slip away, the stress finally taking its toll on his mind. The last thing he remembered seeing was a man surrounded by what seemed to be hundreds of floating lights before the scene faded to black.


	3. Light and Dark

Erik awoke from a host of nightmares to the sound of someone speaking in hushed tones above him. He couldn't make it out, but it sounded like some form of chant, repeated over and over again, and with each repetition he felt warmth spread over his entire being for a moment before fading away. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked around, finding himself in what looked like the living room of a small cottage. It had all the comforts of what he thought a home should have – a couple of couches (one upon which he as lying) and an old recliner in the corner. He could see into what appeared to be a kitchen but he couldn't see very far inside, and lastly he noticed the woman leaning over him, eyes closed in concentration and her shoulder length, raven hair concealing part of her face as she held her hands over him, making a triangle with her fingers. Each time she finished he incantation, a small ball of yellow light would form and float down to his chest, sinking into it and feeling him with the warmth he had noticed before.

"Where am I?" he said weakly, trying to sit up a little. The woman jumped and opened her eyes wide, obviously to expecting him to even be awake at this point.

"Oh. I thought I felt something change in you but I wasn't sure," the woman said, sitting up and brushing the hair out of her face before putting them in her lap. She smirked, "Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah…yeah I think I'm okay," Erik said, starting to sit up fully only to be stopped as the woman pushed him down lightly.

"Now, now sweetie, don't overdo it. Just let the lights do what they do best," she said, her tone saying something her words didn't. Then, she stood and cracked her knuckles, walking away to the kitchen as Erik laid his head back down. The warmth was spreading through him steadily now, and he could feel it making him drowsy. Slowly, he let himself drift back into sleep, trying not to worry about the fact that he was in a strange place with a strange woman.

_Meanwhile…_

The woman glanced back to see the boy had fallen asleep, and she knew that he magic was doing its work She was glad she had absorbed enough sunlight to heal the boy, especially with those splintered ribs.

_"If he had died, it would've set me back quite a bit. I've been waiting for another with a Pure Soul for so long, and I'm sure he will love to hear the results when I've finished," _she thought with a gleam in her eyes as she entered the kitchen proper, a smile on her lips as she stepped around a corner and out of the potential sight of the boy lying on the couch. She stepped into a hallway with five doors; two were bedrooms across from one another, one of which was her own, and next to this was a bathroom, the door across from that one leading to a small, mostly empty study. The last door, located at the end of the hall, was a security door made of solid steel, three inches thick, with a panel to the side. This door led into the natural cave systems in the area that, if she remembered correctly, were connected to Baba Yaga's Castle. It was this castle that was the former lair of a Witch by the name of Arachne, of whom no one had heard of for the past 800 years or so. Of course, this all was common knowledge, especially to another Witch.

_"And it just so happens that I am a Witch,_" the woman thought, walking to the steel door and feeling its cold surface with her hand, _"Not just any Witch though. I'm the Witch that will finally live forever. A Witch the likes of which the world has never known! I am the Master of Light, the Shining Witch, Lilith Briarheart!"_ With a graceful motion, the Shining Witch placed her hand on the panel, which made a few small beeps before lighting up green, the door sliding open soundlessly to reveal a tunnel filled with slightly glowing crystal. She stepped through, taking one last glance into the "cottage" before continuing through, letting the door slide shut behind her with a faint click.


	4. Death of a Mimic! Beginning of Madness?

_Five Years Later_

Erik lived with Lilith in relative peace and tranquility living like, if anything, a brother and a sister would. At least that was what he thought she would think. He, on the other hand, had grown fond of her to the point that, in his fifteen year old mind, amounted to what he could only describe as love. This could be a good explanation to his latest mood, but unfortunately for him this wasn't the only thing on his mind.

- _"This is him," _came a whisper, barely audible in the darkness of his sleep_._

_ "I can see…remarkable. His soul shines so brightly," answered another whisper._

_ "Yes. Untaintable by your power, but perhaps not to madness. I will test it myself,"_

_ "He is beginning to awaken. I must go,"_ a voice, dark and silken, said nearby in the darkness. Erik awoke slowly, eyes opening to see Lilith using her strange lights to heal him. They were dimmer than they normally seemed to be, but discounted it. He thought about asking who had been there with them (a cursory glance revealed that there was no one else in the room) but dismissed it, allowing her to continue without interruption. When she was done, she smiled and unwrapped the bloody bandages around his hand, showing that the wound was completely healed, save for a small scar where it had once been. The same could be said about the cut on his throat, though no scar was evident.

"There we go," she said cheerfully, standing. She had been, as far as the boy knew, working tirelessly to heal him over the course of the night, though now she wore not the black cloak she had been wearing when they first met, but a white tee-shirt and shorts. Home wear. With her features shown, she looked like she was no older than her twenties. Stiffly, Erik sat up and stretched, his back popping in three consecutive places, as it had after his fall at _El Mundo_. He had to admit that it wasn't all that unpleasant. On the contrary, he rather enjoyed the feeling, despite the fact that it would likely persist for all of his life. With groggy eyes Erik watched as Lilith walked to the other couch and sat on it, crossing her legs before turning her violet orbs on him. There was a moment of awkward silence before Erik spoke nervously.

"So...," he started, feeling out of place in his dirty, somewhat tattered uniform, "Where am I?" At this she smiled.

"Well, I suppose you can call this my home, or at least the more "homey" part of my home," she started before noticing the confused look on the ten year olds face, "Er…what I mean is this is the part that I live in. There's more to it." She let out a heavy sigh then, noticing the still somewhat vacant and confused stare of the boy before her.

"I can't be explaining it that poorly…let's see…this is the living area of my house, with a kitchen, bedrooms and bathrooms. You know – the works. And connected to this is a kind of cave system…also part of my home. Do you understand now?" Erik nodded slowly.

"I think so…what do you have the caves for?" he asked, and Lilith was taken aback by the question, not expecting him to push the issue any further.

"That's not important," she said quickly, dodging his question.

After that first conversation, the woman introduced herself as Lilith, and that she was nineteen and living here on her own. Any time Erik would question why she lived this way, she would just shrug and say she enjoyed the quiet, and that the village nearby could supply her with everything she needed. Erik would accept this answer, though he felt that he wasn't getting the whole story. At one point, a few days after she had taken him in, Erik questioned her about it.

"Is the village the one that I came from, with the orphanage?"

"Oh," Lilith said, eyes saddening when she looked down on the boy. She had been working on making the two of them dinner at the time, and set down the knife she had been holding. She crouched down to look him in his steely orbs and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Erik…before I found you in the woods…I passed through that village…I don't know how to say it." At her next words, the young man was frozen, unsure how he could feel so deeply for that little town – the Sisters, the orphanage, the little blonde girl, all of them passed through his mind in a blur.

_The village….it was burning…it's gone."_ –

That conversation was five years ago, but Erik still couldn't get over the fact that he had been powerless to stop it. Now that he was older, he had a better understanding of why, after she had told him that, he had cried all that night. Despite the miserable conditions, and the circumstances of his arrival, it had still been akin to a home for him.

"Their blood…" he whispered, standing in a cavern lit by dimly glowing crystals, looking at the scar on his hand in disgust, "Their blood is on my hands…it's all my fault," with a growl he balled his hands into fists and put them against his forehead in frustration, anger and self-loathing beginning to build. So absorbed was he in his thoughts and fury that he didn't hear the beep, nor did he hear the clicking of heels coming toward him. It was only until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he looked up calmly, anger hiding just behind his pale, blue-gray gaze as it met with Lilith's dark violet one.

"I thought I might find you in here, but I didn't think you would just be hanging around. Usually you're practicing." She said, trying to sound cheerful with little success. Though he was good at hiding it, she could still feel that something was off about the way he stood, or the way the line of his mouth was shaped, and as she noticed these tiny details her eyes filled with more and more concern. Erik turned his gaze from her then, stepping away and wiping dust from the faded blue jeans he was wearing before turning his attention to the chamber, a small room with stone walls and the one door that Lilith had entered through moments before. The ceiling was adorned with crystals, only a few of which were glowing with a soft, pale light, and scattered throughout the room on the floor were dark crystals, all broken in some way or another. It was this that turned Erik back to looking at the woman.

"Yeah," he said finally, "I just had to think for a second…" he stepped forward, eyes intent on her own now, "Lilith…something's been bothering me."

"Well that's fairly obvious," she said, smirking, "After five years you would think I could tell that." She stepped forward to meet him then, looking up into his face and marveling at how much taller he had gotten in so short a time, "But what makes me upset is when you won't tell me what's wrong with you. Don't you trust me?"

"Of course I do…" he said quietly, "but in the time I've been here, I've learned a lot – things that I didn't even know were possible. In five years, you've helped me realize my potential, taught me how to use my Soul Wavelength like a weapon, and how to see other peoples souls. What you never told me was…why? Why did you want me to know all this, and better yet why do you know all of this? And why haven't you changed a bit in all the years I've known you?"

"Erik I…"

"No. No more excuses. Tell me why." Erik demanded, staring unwaveringly into her eyes as he spoke, unable to help but notice how beautiful she was; raven hair shining softly in the pale lights, bangs covering one of her eyes, the other a violet pool that seemed to pull his soul into its crystalline depths. With a sigh of defeat, Lilith spoke.

"I knew you'd wonder sooner or later…" she said, eyes closing for a moment before looking back at him with sadness, "After all, you've grown up so much since the night I found you. You were running from something, and I saved you from it." Erik looked away from her, taking in the information. He remembered the lights that had held the man at bay, and he cursed himself for not making the connection sooner.

"Lilith….who are you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"I'm a Witch, Erik," she sighed, and Erik looked away from her, anger in his eyes. He had heard all about Witches while he was in the orphanage, and he knew that not a one of them were any good. Meanwhile, Lilith just wrung her hands together and continued, her eyes on the floor.

"Witches have a bad reputation…and I knew you would have already known about them, and I knew I would have to teach you more about them in your training…so I kept it from you so you wouldn't lump me in with them."

"Yeah? Then is that why you had me train for so long? So I could do your killing for you?" Erik said, feeling bad about it shortly after but staying strong.

"I'm not like that, Erik!" Lilith retorted angrily.

"Then why train me at all? Why keep me around?"

"Because I loved you, that's why!" Lilith yelled, her voice echoing through the caverns before everything went quiet. Erik was filled with joy and disgust all at once, though he refused to let it show on his face.

"You loved me? Since I was ten?" he asked, and Lilith looked at him, baffled.

"Well, yeah. I mean, not like a man would love a woman, but like a mother might love her child. Or a sister might love her little brother. I liked having you around because you were the closest thing I had to a family anymore." Erik felt his heart sink, but ignored it as his temper flared back up.

"You've been lying to me for five years and you say it was out of love? I find that difficult to believe." Lilith looked aghast for a moment before glaring at him angrily, slapping him before turning on her heel and stomping away. Erik had to admit that he was scared now – he had never seen her face look so angry. Before she left the chamber she turned to him, a tear rolling down her cheek.

"I should have left you there to die!" she cried before the steel door shut soundlessly behind her. Erik could do nothing but stare idly after her, unsure what had just happened. He felt guilty about what he had said, but he couldn't figure out how he was going to make it right.

_Meanwhile…_

Lilith stepped out into the night air, exiting through a door labeled "Gate C." The initial rage she had felt before storming out was replaced now by disappointment. What she had said was true, for the most part; she did love the boy, and he had helped her cope with being alone after leaving her sister to her project, but she knew that such feelings couldn't last. For her plan to succeed there would be no time for such a trivial thing as love. She needed to turn his Pure Soul into a Kishin Egg, if she could, and then she could begin some real research. She was sure her dark ally would assist her in any way she needed. But the only way for her to do that is if Erik trusted her. She would have to find a way to make it happen.

_"It's sad really, but I can let nothing stand in the way of my goals. I've waited long enough, and though my magic keeps me young I doubt it makes me im…"_ Her thoughts were interrupted by a rustling in the brush nearby. She had just enough time to turn her head and see something rush at her before it hit her, moving at impossible speeds. She was aware of rushing wind and hot fingers closing around her throat before everything stopped. Opening her eyes, she found that she was pinned against a tree, hardly able to breathe. In front of her was a dark figure with glowing red eyes.

"Long time…no see…Miss Lilith," said a sinister voice, followed by a giggle that bordered on the insane.

"Hello…Mimic…" Lilith choked, trying to be calm but finding it more and more difficult as the fingers around her throat gripped tighter, closing her airway. She tried to concentrate and blast him with some of her Light Magic, but realized only too late that she had left her crystals, the focuses of her power, in the caves.

"I see..that…" she coughed, "You don't…need…the…kn…knife anymore…"

"You have a keen eye, Witch. No, my power has grown beyond the need for such conventional weaponry since last we met, and I've improved quite a bit at my…impersonations," Mimic replied, voice changing until it resembled Erik's almost to the very way he breathed, "And that's not all…Miss Lilith." She felt him press her harder into the tree, and she was startled when it began to bend and crack from the stress. The movement allowed Mimic to put his face in the moonlight, and Lilith would have gasped had she been able to. Standing before her, with a jagged toothed smile that was not his own, was the spitting image of Erik.

"E….Erik?"

"No, weren't you paying attention to what I've been saying?!" Mimic said in a fit of irrational rage, pressing her against the tree even harder, causing more protests to arise from the breaking would. The effect was eerie, since his voice was still like Erik's, but as soon as the anger had come it was gone, and Mimic let off another insane giggle.

"Uncanny, isn't it? Soon I'll even be able to change the way my soul looks, and then no one will be able to stop me…but we've talked long enough," his smile widened, "Time to take _your _soul." The fingers around her throat closed ever tighter, cutting off her entire air supply. Lilith's vision began to fill with black dots and she knew she wouldn't make it out of this alive. Surprisingly, her last thought before the darkness began to overtake her was of Erik, smiling at him from under his somewhat shaggy mess of oak colored hair. She saw the jacket, a leather duster, she had given him resting easily upon his shoulders. Relaxing at the strangely calming thought, Lilith closed her eyes and waited for the sweet embrace of death to take her.

"GrrrrRRAAAAH!" came the cry of outrage from nearby, sounding more like some feral animal than a man. She felt the grip on her throat slacken before it was gone altogether, dropping her to the ground. As she coughed she felt a rush of wind passed her by, followed by a startled cry from her assailant. She began to greedily gulp in the forest air, her head feeling light as her vision began to return. To her right she said two Eriks, one holding the other in the air by the throat. She could tell that the one in the air was Mimic by his glowing red eyes and the demented smile that seemed to refuse to leave his face.

"Well well!" said Mimic, hanging limply in the air, "This _is_ a surprise. Just a little boy…a little _niño_…now look at you. All grown up, ¿lo pillas?" As the man's voice changed to match that of Sad Sax Samm and his face changed to that worn old man's, Erik's grip tightened.

"This is for all the people you've destroyed…Samm…the Sisters…the little blonde girl…"

"Her name," Mimic said, giggling maniacally "was Eletta." This drove Erik over the brink, and his eyes darkened dangerously.

"Your soul is mine. Enjoy your stay in hell," Erik said angrily, his Soul Wavelength gathering in his hand, his fingertips tingling with the power.

"Soul Ripper!" he growled, the pinpoints of power at his fingertips penetrating his foe's wavelength, seeking and quickly finding the tainted, red Kishin Egg that was the Mimic's soul. With a surge, Erik pulled his hand from his opponent, in his hand the glowing red soul of his enemy. Mimic, eyes dull and no longer glowing, fell to the ground without so much as a grunt in response. Vaguely, Erik remembered Lilith telling him that he could eat the souls of his enemies to become more powerful, and without a second thought he brought it to his lips, chewing it slowly and savoring the taste of victory. The texture was strange, but he paid it no mind. When he swallowed, Mimic's body disintegrated into a mass of swirling black ribbons before disappearing completely.

"Erik?" asked Lilith behind him, her voice weak and pained. He turned and saw her leaning against a nearby tree. He walked to her, and she attempted to reciprocate the action, only to stumble in her haze. Erik dashed forward and caught her by the shoulders before she could fall, and she clung to him, breathe coming out in ragged pants. Her throat was on fire, and she knew her neck would be badly bruised in the morning.

"Lilith…are you all right?" he asked, keeping her steady. After a moment she looked up to him.

"You saved me…why?"

"You're the closest thing I have to a family," Erik said, unwittingly quoting her, "why wouldn't I?" Lilith was silent for a moment, her eyes glassy.

"I…I thought you hated me…for lying…"

"Lilith…I could never hate you…" he held her at arm's length then, so that he could look her in the eye. Her gaze was a strange mixture of sadness and joy.

"Why?" she asked, and his gaze became gentle, gentler than she was aware he could be. Usually he was so pensive, he almost looked angry most of the time. However, with his next words, she was swept off of her feet.

"Because Lilith…I love you. And not like a brother might love a sister, or a child might love his mother. I love you…really." Then, he acted on impulse and pressed his lips to hers, and he was surprised when she kissed him back. She couldn't help but kiss him back. She knew it would happen eventually, and she couldn't deny that she had looked forward to it.

_"Maybe this won't be so bad…if only for a little while,"_ she thought, letting herself get taken away in the moment. It was the start of something that, to anyone who would have seen them at that moment, could easily be called a beautiful relationship. However, it was also the start of something darker within Erik…it was the start of obsession. It was the start of Madness.


	5. Love is Madness! Battling a Death God?

_Two Years Later_

Erik was sprawled out on the couch that, so many years before, he had first met the woman he loved. The woman he lived for and, if it came to it, the woman he would die for. And the woman that, at present, was leaning against his shoulder, napping. He could not find sleep himself, though his eyes were dark and heavy. It had been this way for a few weeks now – mind in a fog, but also so alert that he couldn't convince his body to shut down. He knew all too well what it meant for Lilith to be a Witch. That people would come after her, blaming her for their own problems when in reality she had done nothing. Because of this, he had vowed that he would protect her, no matter what the cost. It didn't help that rumors had gotten to his ears of a Witch in the jungle and it seemed that, more and more frequently, warriors wishing to test their skill against her would find their way to their home. But they would never get past Erik.

_"I won't let them take you away from me,"_ he thought groggily, _"None of them will get past me."_ Slowly, he rubbed his hand up and down her shoulder and forearm, taking in her features. He knew it seemed selfish and possessive to protect her like that – she was a Witch, and he knew she was strong enough to fend for herself. Especially here among the crystal caves, where she had stored enough light to fuel her magic for several decades…if not centuries. But he would never let them close, for the fear that she would be taken from him. And, each time someone came, she would not get in his way, even though he was sure she could easily overpower him. She always let him fight, and she always let him take the soul. He didn't understand why.

Slowly, Erik eased himself from under her, laying her down softly on the couch so she wouldn't be roused. Then, he made his way to the bathroom and stood there, staring into the mirror above the sink, looking at the way he had changed. He had to admit that he was no longer the little boy that had wanted so long ago to be free. He had grown into a man, athletic in build, modestly filling out the black tee-shirt he was wearing. On it, in large white block letters, were the words "Got Soul?" His face had also thinned, losing the childlike appearance and becoming more sharply defined, but not gaunt. Healthy would have been a much better word to describe it. Since he was no longer held down by the rules and regulations of a convent run orphanage, Erik had let his hair grow out, the shaggy and somewhat spiked look of it giving him and almost wolfish appearance, which was complemented by some other changes that he was sure weren't natural: his eyes had turned to a kind of pinkish color, almost red, and his teeth had become jagged and sharp. When he had first noticed this, he had been frightened, but then Lilith had explained everything to him.

_"All the people who have been coming to claim my life have been normal humans, and therefore have regular human souls,"_ she had said. Erik had guessed that, since their souls were of a different color that the soul of Mimic, who had been what Lilith called a "Pre-Kishin." Still, she had told him that there was nothing to be afraid of, and that with each soul he devoured he would become more powerful. He accepted this easily, for if his love said there was nothing to be worried about, then he wouldn't worry about it. What she hadn't told him, however, was that his soul was well on its way to becoming a Kishin Egg itself.

_Meanwhile_...

Lilith was awakened almost rudely from her doze by a small chuckle, low enough that only she could hear. She opened her violet eyes and saw a figure standing in the corner, barely visible in the shadows.

"It seems that your experiment was a success..." said the figure, voice dark and silken, "the boy's Pure Soul can still be tainted by Madness…but can he be tainted by my power?"

"We can't be sure," she said defensively, glaring at her 'ally.'

"And why is that?"

"His soul has not fully changed, so the experiment is still incomplete. Be gone from this place – I will summon you when the time comes." The figure merely laughed before melding into the shadows, his last words ringing out through the room.

_"Do not let your feelings distract you from your duties, Shining Witch. Or immortality will never be yours."_ She ignored this, standing and walking to where she could feel the young man's soul.

Erik's thoughts were interrupted by two small hands wrapping around his waist, followed by Lilith standing up on her tip-toes and resting her chin on his shoulder, pecking him once lightly on the cheek.

"What are you thinking about, my toy?" He leaned his head over onto hers almost habitually. She had taken to calling him her "toy," but he didn't really mind.

"Just thinking about the last few years. What about you?"

"Nothing, really. But we do need to go somewhere."

"Oh really? Where to?" he asked, intrigued.

"Well, there's a cave in the United States that is supposed to have some interesting crystals that should help me with my healing magic," then, noticing the unsettled look on his face, "if that's okay with you, I mean. I know that the States have some bad memories associated with them. I could always go on my own, if you'd like. At these words Erik started.

"No, no. It's all right, I'll go whenever you're ready." She smiled.

"Right now, actually," she replied, before the both of them disappeared in a flash of light.

_Seconds later, somewhere in Midwest America_

Erik stood in the cave with Lilith, who was at that moment observing the crystal structures along the walls. Erik was still disoriented by the teleportation, but couldn't help but marvel at how the cave itself was actually quite remarkable – almost perfectly spherical, with crystals covering almost every surface, including the ceiling. There were very few on the cave floor, however, which Erik associated with the big hole in the ceiling, allowing sunlight to shine in. His suspicions were verified when Lilith spoke, as if thinking aloud.

"Hmm…these crystals seem to dissolve in direct sunlight…interesting…I won't be able to utilize them with Sun Magic…maybe I can use Moon Magic…hmm…" At her musings, Erik smirked and chuckled before leaning against a bare patch on the wall. To his left was a dark passage that he assumed led further into the caves. He imagined the different twists and turns branching out forever underneath them and shivered. He was sure that, if he ever got lost in here, he would never find his way out again. Across from his position was another tunnel that invoked the same feeling within him, giving the place a labyrinthine feeling.

After a few minutes, Lilith approached Erik. Ran to him, actually.

"I've got what I need, we need to go. Now. C'mon take my hand, quick!" she said in a panic, holding out a hand for him to take. Erik instead reached forward and grabbed her shoulders.

"Whoa, calm down. What's wrong?"

"Can't you feel that?" she asked, her tone hushed. Erik was confused at first. He didn't know what she meant. Everything seemed normal; he heard nothing but the sound of wind passing through the caves as a slight breeze blew through them. He began to focus his senses, and all at once something made itself known to him – a wavelength….two wavelengths. Exceedingly powerful and very close by. Erik opened his eyes and gazed at his love.

"Yeah, I feel it. Let's –"

"If you're about to say, 'Let's get out of here,' I'm afraid you're going to be disappointed," said a deep, menacing voice. From the hole in the ceiling descended a figure Erik had never seen, but had heard much about. The figure, now standing in the middle of the chamber, wore a jagged, jet black cloak, a grim looking skull mask, and held in its overlarge white hands a scythe, almost as menacing as the mask. This was the Shinigami, Lord Death.

"Hello, Lord Death. How wonderful to see you again," said Lilith as she turned to face him, her voice laced with scorn. Her hand was still outstretched to Erik, though her back was turned to him now. He knew that she would be able to teleport them out of the cave in seconds.

"Good to see you too, Shining Witch. Oh, and don't think that you can escape this time; I've set up a barrier to keep you from using that particular spell." There was a thump as another man fell through the hole. A man wrapped in thick bundles of cloth, red eyes barely visible beneath black bangs.

"Asura, too? To what do I owe t pleasure?" Lilith asked, letting her hand drop to her side. Asura said nothing.

"Well, your little test subject is with you, and I must admit I wasn't sure if I could handle the two of you on my own. Erik acted on this, the Shinigami's admission of this uncertainty giving him greater confidence. He pulled Lilith back behind him.

"When I tell you to run, you run and don't look back, "he whispered. Lilith was about to interject but he put a finger to her lips before running a hand down her cheek.

"Just go. Do this one thing for me, okay?" Normally, she would fight tooth and nail, but seeing Erik so determined despite these hopeless odds, she nodded.

"Just be careful…" she said, and Erik smiled before turning back to Lord Death. They were now standing in front of one of the passages, and Erik was sure that she would be able to escape. He focused his wavelength, compressing it into himself until he was certain he must be glowing with it. He took one last look at his love before nodding at her, and with a look of sadness and understanding she turned and sprinted away, disappearing in the darkness of the tunnel. Erik heard Death cry, "After her!" and turned with a snarl to see Asura charging him. With a roar, he released all the pent up energy, which was strong enough to throw Asura back and make Death stumble, if only for a moment, as well as shatter every piece of crystal in the chamber. It fell like rain in a sparkling torrent, each piece staying on the floor only for a moment before dissolving in the sunlight. Erik was brimming with power, and Death knew that he was perilously close to becoming a full-fledged Kishin.

"Go after the Witch! I'll handle the boy!" Death cried to his companion, already back on his feet. Asura glanced at the Shinigami, a malicious and unsettling gleam in his eye, and then he was off, moving at lightning speed and catching Erik with a spinning kick that sent him to the side before he sprinted down the passage. Erik prepared to charge after him but Death was blocking his path, scythe gleaming.

"You aren't going anywhere child, though I wonder why you would want to chase after that one either way."

"Get out of my way, Death God, or I'll tear out your soul!" Erik growled, his rage peaking as his power skyrocketed, his hands looking more like claws.

"Of course, your special skill. The 'Soul Ripper,' was it? Quite the technique…though I highly doubt you could overpower my soul…and you'll find that my Wavelength has no weak spots. It would be easiest for you to just give up quietly." At this point, Erik had succumbed almost entirely to his madness, his vision seeming to be clouded by a red fog, the only thing in sight his enemy. His wavelength had gone haywire, his power increasing without any foreseeable end. Death knew this.

"Then again, I've been wrong before…but is seems that words are lost to you at this point. It's sad that she's used you like this, to turn you into a Kishin…such a cruel and vile thing to do."

"Shut up! Shut up shut up shut up SHUT UP!" Erik cried, taking a step forward, "Don't you dare talk to my love that way!" Then, he straightened up and smirked, though his eyes were wild and unfocused.

"You won't be able to turn me against her, Death. Now then," he tensed once more, power flowing to his hands, "I'VE ALWAYS WONDERED…WHAT DOEA A DEATH GOD'S SOUL TASTE LIKE?! LET'S FIND OUT, SHALL WE!" Erik dashed, a blur in the fading sunlight, and struck out with his wavelength. Death dodged the attack with ease and struck with his scythe, catching Erik on the arm. The boy leaped back and looked at the wound, which began to heal rapidly – something neither combatant had expected. The wound, however, was enough to push Erik over the edge entirely. It wasn't enough to finish his progress into a Kishin, but it was getting close. Erik attacked again, his hand coming in contact with the scythe and effectively blocking it, sending it careening to the side. What came next was a series of lightning fast attacks, counterattacks and splatters of blood as Erik was cut again and again. It wasn't long before the two separated, standing at either side of the room. Erik's shirt and pants were a torn and bloody mess, and he had bloody gashes swiftly healing all over his arms and chest. But he didn't care; at this point, he wasn't even thinking about anything other than fighting and protecting Lilith.

"You fight well," said Death, who had not escaped his share of blows. Erik's wavelength had completely removed pieces of his cloak, but otherwise he seemed unharmed if not a bit fatigued. There was a moment of tension as the fighters stared one another down, then a blur as the two charged. The resulting confrontation was Erik holding the blade of the scythe between his hands, fighting with all his might against Death.

"Before I kill you…" started Death, using all his strength to push the scythe down closer and closer to the young man's chest. It moved about half an inch before Erik stopped it.

"Why do you fight for her? Why do you love a Witch – the same Witch that turned a small child into a killing machine?" Erik didn't answer. He couldn't have answered even if he wanted to.

"Fine," Death said finally, his wavelength beginning to saturate the blade, "This should snap you out of it, I think." Lord Death released a surge of power then, and Erik was overwhelmed by it, the blade slipping through his hands and causing a deep gash in his chest. The impact, it seemed, was also what saved Erik from an instantly fatal blow, as the strength behind it sent him flying across the room and into a wall, a trail of blood in his wake.

"Gah…" he croaked, curling into the fetal position as his overpowered wavelength began to heal him. Despite this, the pain wouldn't go away. As Death had predicted, Erik had been snapped out of his madness induced rage, and he could once again think for himself.

_"Why…why can't I…move…Lilith…please tell me….you got away…"_ he thought before darkness overtook him. The last thing her heard was Death, mere steps away.

"Soul Taker Erik Altezio, your soul…is _mine._"

_Death_

Death stepped up to the boy that had, in truth, given him a run for his money. A small sound behind him signaled the return of Asura, and without looking the Shinigami spoke.

"So. Did you catch the Witch?" Asura made no response, but his silence was enough to tell the story.

"So she made it out of the barrier and teleported…leaving the boy behind…hmm…" He mused, looking over the boy, curled up around his rapidly healing wounds. Death raised his scythe over his shoulder, the blade growing larger and more deadly looking as it glowed with a multicolored, incandescent light; the legendary Scythe Technique, Witch Hunter. He looked down at the boy and prepared to strike but stopped, seeing how young he still was, and how weak and small he looked. In a stroke of compassion, Death lowered his weapon, the light dissipating.

"Is this wise, Lord?" asked Asura, finally breaking his silence, "He is too close to becoming a Kishin, we should destroy him while we have the chance." At this, Death merely shook his head.

"I may be a Death God…but who am I to pass judgment on one such as he…a mere child? Is he wrong to have love in his heart for the wrong person?" At this, Asura scoffed.

"His is consumed with obsession. What place is there for love in a sea of madness?" he replied, watching with mild interest as the Shinigami picked the boy up off the ground, peeling away the remains of his shirt as he did so – only a few scraps of the cloth remained anyhow. From under his cloak Death produced an identical shirt, noting the strange look Asura was giving him.

"What. I just happened to have a spare, just in case. It's always wise to pack extra, you know." With that only Lord Death could have with those gigantic hands, he put the shirt on the boy as he carried him to the center of the room. Asura, meanwhile, stood at the sidelines, watching with questioning eyes. What happened next could only be described as some sort of miracle, and certainly something that only a Death God could accomplish. He placed the boy on the floor, underneath the waning light streaming in from the outside world. Then, taking a step back, he slammed the handle of his scythe into the stone floor, causing crystal to quickly begin growing around Erik as soon as it hit the stone. The boy, still curled up in the fetal position, was completely encased in seconds, the crystal beginning to float on the air when it was done growing.

"What good will come from putting him in crystal?" Asura questioned.

"The crystal will stop time for him…in a way. That is to say, the world will move on without it, and his madness will not be able to progress. He will never become a Kishin."

"Will he be aware of this?"

"I cannot say, but this is an experimental technique so I haven't worked out all of the snags."

"What is it made of?" asked Asura, hand touching the crystal. He could feel power within it, constantly buzzing and vibrating.

"My own Soul Wavelength, of course," Lord Death answered before continuing his work. With a mighty swing, his scythe blade slammed into the ground, the shockwave gouging a trench in the stone around the crystal while a spire lifted it higher into the air, a small stairway circling around it to the top. Meanwhile, water gushed from the spot the scythe blade was embedded in the stone, the water filling the trench before beginning to endlessly swirl as Death imbued it with some of his Wavelength.

"And this…?" began Asura.

"Should anyone come to this place," Death answered before he could finish his question, "which is very unlikely after we block off these caves, this will serve as a shrine, a testament to this child who had the power to fight for love…corny as that sounds."

"That's all well and good, but why give it some of your power?"

"Oh. Well, the water is a fail-safe. If someone would try to free him, they would not survive. No mercy I'm afraid," Lord Death replied, walking away with Asura trailing behind him.

"It's like you asked before, 'What place is there for love in a sea of madness?'"

"Yes?"

"The answer is simple, my friend. Love itself is a kind of madness, when one thinks of it. Madness to protect a single person regardless who or what gets hurt. Even if it means taking innocent lives."

"Whatever…I don't understand it," was Asura's only reply, and Death let off a chuckle that was somewhat disturbing with his deep, dark voice.

"I don't think any of us do."

_The Inner Chamber_

Erik sat in almost total darkness, the only light being produced by a glowing red soul directly in front of him. He looked around, terrified, before calling out.

"Where am I? Lilith?" he asked, and was surprised when he was answered by a small girl's voice.

"You are in the home of our soul," it said, a brief flash from his soul heralding the appearance of someone who still tormented him: Eletta.

"How…" he began, but as silenced by her.

"When you ate the soul of Mimic, beginning your fall, I was absorbed into your being, as was every person ever taken by that…monster." Then, another flash and another figure appeared.

"You see _niño, _for every human soul you eat, your soul is corrupted a little more. This happened with Mimic…and it's been happening to you, _¿lo pillas?_"

"I don't understand…" Erik said slowly, looking at the two sadly.

"You are becoming a Kishin, Erik," said Eletta, "And we are the souls that you have devoured, even though our souls were taken…indirectly."

"There is a way to fix this…but it will take a long time _niño, _Are you will to do it?" Erik was confused, both at what was going on and at how they could know so much about what was happening to him. They even seemed to know his very thoughts, which was shown when Eletta spoke again.

"You tend to learn these things when you're dead…"

"I'm sorry…" Erik muttered, but he was stopped before he could continue by Samm, who put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't need to apologize to us, Erik. You weren't the cause for my demise, nor hers. But the rest…you will have to gain their forgiveness." The two began to glow with a slight blue light then, and to Erik's dismay they started to fade away. He reached out for them but couldn't touch them.

"Gain the forgiveness of the souls you have taken, Erik, and you can make yourself better…it's the only way." Eletta said, her voice sounding far off as she gave a slight wave, "Perhaps we'll see you again one day…goodbye…" Then, they were gone; once more leaving Erik alone in the red glow of what he now knew was his own soul. Two small flecks seemed to peel off of it, floating away into the darkness. Erik knew, though he wasn't sure how, that the "healing" process had begun. He was sad that he wouldn't be able to see Lilith, but he knew that, either way, he wouldn't be able to stay with her…no matter how much his heart ached for it. She would corrupt him again.

"Well," he sighed, "I guess I should get this done and over with. How long could it take, anyway?"

_Authors Note_

This is just a quick thank you to those of you who actually took the time to re-read these revisions. I changed quite a bit and plan on doing the same for the next half of the story. The same will be happening to other stories, especially those in the Dark Soul Saga. Again, thank you, and enjoy your reading.


	6. Prologue: Minoras Story

Minora's Story

The warmth of the sun's rays on the back of her neck signaled that dawn had arrived. The girl stayed in her bed (her big, four poster bed) and smirked lightly, falling into what had become her regular Saturday routine – stay in bed until the light reaches her eyes, then go out and meet the world. At least, that is what she would have liked to do but fate had other plans for her in the form of three light taps on her bedroom door.

"Minora, wake up. Mom and Dad have breakfast ready," came the voice of her older sister through the door, the sixteen year old sounding almost as tired as Minora suddenly felt.

"Fifteen more minutes…." She begged, nearly whining, "just fifteen more. Her smirk was replaced with an annoyed frown as she attempted to bury herself deeper into the covers. There as silence for a minute or so, and Minora started to feel herself sink back into a half-doze before three more taps, faster than before, once more snatched it away from her.

"Minora Scaife you have exactly…" there was a pause, and Minora could practically se her sister squinting at the wall clock that hung at the end of the hallway outside of her room, "thirty seconds before I bust that door down and drag you out by your heels!" Minora knew that she would never really drag her out of the room, but the thirteen year old did in fact know that she could and would bust the door down. She'd done it before. Finally Minora sat up, her long black hair a complete mess. Her incredibly light green eyes, with specks of blue and darker blue and darker green throughout each, opened slowly and drowsily.

"All right, all right I'm awake. Sheesh," she stretched, raising her arms high, "Tell them I'll be down in a few minutes, okay?" There was no answer from outside her door, but she could hear the sound of light footsteps as the other girl walked away. Minora listened as they slowly faded, toying with the idea of lying back down. But she thought better of it.

"No…no I'd better get up," she muttered, disappointment apparent in her tone, as she made her way to the edge of her bed. It was a fight to get through the multitude of silken sheets and the big, red comforter with violet floral patterns. The feeling of the cold wooden floor under her feet brought life to her senses, and she immediately took stock of her room, the familiarity of it bringing about the sense of peace that she enjoyed every morning. It was a large room, but seeing as the Scaife family was one of the wealthiest families in Europe (at least through legal means) this was to be expected. There were two windows, one on either side of the bed, which was set up against the wall opposite the door. To the left of the bed was a small dresser at about knee height, on top of which was an antique lamp and a picture of her family. To either side of the door were bookshelves, filled to bursting with books, many of which Minora had already read through time and again. The shelves were left over from when her grandparents owned the Scaife household some sixteen years ago. Her closet was on the left wall and was filled with clothes, including a plethora of very elegant dresses, many of which Minora had never worn. And, finally, on the right side of the room there was a desk sitting next to another door that was slightly ajar, showing the inside of a modest bathroom.

Minora gazed lovingly at the picture on her dresser before walking to the aforementioned closet and garbing herself in a clean set of clothes. Then, she walked into her bathroom and scowled at her disheveled image before closing the door.

_An Hour Later_

Minora stepped into the dining room, running a brush almost furiously through her long, raven, and currently tangled hair. She had to admit that she felt a hundred times better after her shower, and the smell of bacon wafting through the air only made her mood better as she brought herself down in one of the plush chairs at the long dinner table. She wasn't entirely sure why her parents insisted on keeping this particular table with only four people living in the house, but she shrugged away the thought – money always seemed to make people go above and beyond the necessary, and she was used to it anyhow. She looked around, noting the lack of anyone else in the room, and took this chance to rest her elbows on the table, putting her chin in her hands and blowing a loose strand of still wet hair out of her face with little success.

"Good morning Minora, my love. Elbows off the table, please," said a warm female's voice behind her, and Minora smiled before complying. She felt arms wrap around her shoulders and give her a quick squeeze before they were gone, her mother walking around the table and taking her seat.

"Good morning, mother," she said, looking at the woman before her. Despite her age, she was still one of the most beautiful women Minora had ever seen. She had long, jet black hair like her daughter, and her eyes were a shining emerald color, making it obvious who the young girl took after. Her mother had very angular features, and the only things betraying her age were the crow's feet around her eyes and the laugh lines around her mouth, but these only made her seem more elegant and refined. She had a lean build, body-wise, with a modest bust and waist that were brought into the light by the fitting green dress she was wearing. The way it clung to her curves was in no way obscene; on the contrary, it only made her look more gorgeous. On her feet was a pair of green, sparkling high heels. The clasps were made of emerald, and Minora knew that they were very, very real.

"So," Minora started, smiling under her mother's loving gaze, "Where's Sarah? She hasn't left already has she?" Her mother laughed, a sound that seemed to make the air sparkle.

"No, but she will be leaving for the Academy after breakfast. She has to say goodbye to her little sister, after all," Minora nodded in response, thoughtful. Sarah was a Weapon in her third semester at the Death Weapon Meister Academy, and today was the day that she traveled back to America to continue her study. Over her break, Sarah had told Minora many stories about her escapades, including the story about a boy that had fought Lord Death single handedly for a Witch – a warning to students not to trust them. This story was apparently true, and had happened a short sixteen years ago.

"Mmm…smells good in here," another voice said behind her, and Minora turned to reveal her father, who walked to sit across from his wife. Like his wife, he was a handsome man despite his age. His hair was short and brown, but beginning to gray at the roots. He styled it back to look as if he had been standing in a wind tunnel. His features were strong; a square jaw and hooked nose, with stubble that made it obvious he hadn't shaven that morning. His eyes, hazel in color, were warm and caring. He was not, however, dressed as well as his wife had this morning, sporting a sky blue bathrobe and a pair of matching fuzzy slippers. Resting lightly on his nose was a pair of square rim glasses, and Minora had the thought that the only thing missing from his fatherly figure was a newspaper and a pipe.

"Good morning, father," Minora said cheerfully, a warm smile the man's reply.

"Good morning sweetheart. Did you sleep well?" In truth, Minora hadn't slept well, but she wasn't about to tell her father that. He had been worrying about something else recently and she didn't really want to add on to his troubles, so she only smiled and nodded.

"I'm glad to hear it. By the way, where is your sister?" he asked, looking around, "She's supposed to be leaving soon isn't she?"  
"Well yeah. I'm leaving after breakfast," came her voice, appearing from a door on the other side of the table as if she had been summoned. Behind her were two women in aprons, each holding two plates filled with breakfast foods. As they set out the plates and silverware, one of the women looked to Sarah and smiled.

"Thank you for your help in the kitchen, dear. Will there be anything else we can do for you?" She sounded very formal, as if they had been working as servants to the Scaife family for years. And, for all Minora knew, they had.

"No, this should be fine," she answered.

"It looks lovely ladies," said her father, "in fact, why don't you join us this morning? I'm sure there's plenty for everyone."

"That is very generous of you, Mr. Scaife, but I'm afraid we can't. We've got a lot more work to do this morning," the other said, smiling pleasantly.

"Oh, nonsense. Join us I insist," Mr. Scaife continued, and what came next was a friendly squabble that ended in laughter. Still, they didn't join them, leaving to their duties. Minora hadn't been paying all that much attention anyway, and had instead started on her fill spread of steaming eggs, perfectly browned bacon, and golden pancakes – all things she just couldn't resist. Despite her thin figure her weakness, it seemed, was food.

The family ate and talked lightly with one another, and once all was said and done, Sarah stood.

"Okay, I'm going to be on my way now. It was lovely to see you all. I'll be back soon, I promise," she said, giving both her parents a peck on the cheek and hug each before looking to her little sister.

"You want to come with me to the airport? These two look like they could use a little time away from the kids, hm?" Minora agreed with this sentiment wholeheartedly, grabbing her coat from a nearby coat rack and following her sister outside, waving to her parents before practically running to the black car waiting outside. Inside was a chauffeur that gave the duo a large smile as they approached.

"Oh, will the young Miss be going with you on your trip, Ms. Scaife?"

"I'm afraid not. She's just going to see me off. You'll be sure she gets home all right?"

"Of course, madame," the man said, opening the door so that the two could enter the vehicle. Overall, Minora thought that the day, despite her restless night, couldn't get any better. However, as they sped off down the road, she didn't see the car pull up to her home, nor did she see the man in the black suit and fedora walk up to their door. Her father had been worrying about something recently, this was true, and little did she know that very soon she would be dragged into a world that would change her life forever.


	7. Unsettled Debts! A Terrible Fate?

"Surely there is something I can do?" asked Mr. Scaife, who was currently sitting a small wooden chair in the kitchen. He was bound to it with thick ropes, his hair was a disheveled mess and he was sporting an eye that was getting blacker and puffier by the second. His wife lie on the floor before him, unconscious. The two servant women weren't as lucky as she, however; they were visible on the floor in the next room, blood pooling around their bodies. They were dead. Finally, in front of the man were three others, all dressed in black and white suits, and each with a matching black fedora. The man in the center was holding his hat in front of him, eyeing Mr. Scaife in a way that seemed to show total control. The other two men looked bored, one with a pistol and the other with a slightly bloodied aluminum baseball bat.

"Something you can do?" the man in the center asked mockingly, "Mr. Scaife I don't think you quite comprehend the position that you're in. You see, we gave your father a lot of money, enough to start up a fairly large enterprise." At this the man walked away, walking to the sink and washing his hands as if he owned the place. And, at the moment, he might as well have.

"However, despite his success, our organization was never repaid for our loan. Can you tell me why that is, Mr. Scaife?"

"My father is dead! He left my wife and I this estate! We have no part in all this, so just leave us alone!" The man continued to wash his hands at Mr. Scaife's outburst, and smirked when he heard the sound of metal connecting with flesh. There was a pained groan and a cough. The man then grabbed a butcher knife from one of the drawers next to him and inspected it like a jeweler might inspect a diamond before turning and walking behind the bound man, putting his free hand on his shoulder.

"Well yes, your father is dead, and his business along with him, but you seem to miss the point. He may be dead, but his debts are still very much alive." The man then held the knife up to Mr. Scaife's throat, a wicked smile on his face as he whispered in his ear.

"Now, since you've made it _painfully _obvious that you can't pay us back, we can do this one of two ways – you can pay us in blood, or you can sell us the estate…actually, scratch that last one. Even if you were to sell this hovel you wouldn't even be able to meet the original amount, not to mention the years of interest you owe…oh well…" Mr. Scaife made no sound as he felt the blade press into his throat. He wouldn't give these bastards the satisfaction. If he was going to die, he would die with whatever dignity he had left.

"…Daddy?" came a young voice nearby, causing almost everyone in the room to whip their heads to the source. Horrified, Mr. Scaife looked over to the open doorway to see Minora, eyes wide with fear.

"Minora! Just run! GO!" her father tried to yell to her, but it came out as a pained croak,

"Well, this is certainly an interesting turn of events. Good news, Mr. Scaife, I think I found a way to pay off your debts," he nodded to the two other men, "Sound good?" The two approached her and she backed away from them slowly.

"Leave her alone, you mother fucker!" Mr. Scaife cried out as she bolted. He tried to fight his way out of his restraints, but he was silenced with a powerful blow to the head that knocked him unconscious. Minora, meanwhile, made it close to the door only to be caught by the waist and lifted up off the ground. Her screams were quieted by a damp cloth, and her screams eventually dying on her lips as she breathed in the strange fumes coming from the thing around her mouth.

_"Why, Daddy…?"_ she thought, eyes fluttering shut before everything faded away with two loud bangs.

When Minora came to, she found herself sitting in a very dimly lit room. Her head was still in a haze, but in the limited light she could see the forms of two men standing before her, talking amongst one another. She tried to move but noticed that her hands had been bound behind her.

"I don't know Mack," said one, voice muffled as if something were in his mouth, "She seems kinda…I dunno kinda young don't she?" His voice was gruff and unrefined, and Minora crinkled her nose at the smell of booze when he spoke.

"Now don't give me that shit," said the other man, the one that Minora foggily assumed was 'Mack', "I know for damn sure that you've taken younger, and you and I both know that some of your…clients…would get a kick out of this one." There was silence for a moment before the other man moved forward. Minora closed her eyes as she felt a rough hand on her chest. She wanted to scream but no sound came from her lips. She knew what was happening and she was powerless to stop it.

"I still don't know, Mack. She's not very developed," said the man after a moment, removing the violating limb from her.

"You should've seen her mother. She'll fill out I promise you," Mack pressed, the two continuing their sick bartering. Minora was glad they had stopped touching her, and even more so when the two left the room, but she couldn't hold back the tears in her eyes. At this point, two things were horribly apparent to her: her family was gone, and she was now nothing more than the property of some sick, depraved lunatic. For the first time in her life, Minora felt herself being dragged down into the darkest pits of despair, so much so that she didn't even react when they pulled her from where she sat and whisked her away.

_Three Days Later_

Minora cowered in the corner of the room, a dank little thing that had only a small cot against the wall. They had brought her out to a two story house in the country, and during the trip she had never been allowed more than a few feet away from the men that had brought her here. This man was a balding older brute who was constantly chewing toothpicks, wearing them down to nothing before grabbing another. Whenever someone would ask, he would tell them that Minora was his granddaughter and that they were on their way to a family gathering. He never specified where. After they had arrived and the traveling was done, Minora had been left in this room and given a ratty looking black dress, which she was told to "put on and wait." After a while Minora had been joined by another woman, seemingly only a few years older, and this was now the center of the girls attention.

The older woman wore street clothes: a tee shirt and a pair of jeans, but no shoes. She had short, sandy blonde hair and amber colored eyes. Her features were delicate but marred by the deep frown on her face, and the look of hurt in her eyes as she looked over Minora.

"So young…" she muttered, standing from her chair in the corner of the room and stepping up to Minora. The girl tried to back further into her corner as the woman knelt down to her level.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" she asked, and received no response. Minora had learned her lesson for talking on the way here. She had "spoken out of turn" and had been struck for it. A small bruise on her cheek was what she had to show for it, and the woman noticed it easily, reaching out to examine it. Minora cringed and backed away as much as she could. She hoped that maybe, if she tried hard enough, she would simply sink through the wall and be gone.

"Easy, darling, easy. I'm not going to hurt you," cooed the woman, still reaching forward and touching the bruise lightly, turning her face to see it better, "My name is Emily." At this Minora began to ease up a little bit, stopping her shaking and looking Emily in the eye. The woman tried her best to smile.

"I still don't know your name, sweetie. Would you please tell me?"

"M…Minora…" she said quietly, flinching a bit as Emily ran her fingers lightly over the bruise.

_"That bastard,"_ she thought, _"she's just a little girl and he still won't pull his punches. I'll kill him."_ After a while of convincing, Emily was able to get Minora to sit on the cot and put on the dress. She didn't want to, but she knew that she didn't have much of a choice. She knew what was coming for the girl – a girl still so innocent and naïve – and the thought of it brought angry tears to her eyes. What she wouldn't give to take her place. Minora, on the other hand, was scared and knew nothing of what was coming, but she had fears that were only confirmed as Emily tried to explain. She had been bought by a terrible man who called himself Mr. Sho. He owned a brothel that was well known in the darker places of society, and his tendency was to buy women and sell them in his brothel. Minora was one such girl. But it didn't end there – Mr. Sho had his own sick perversions, and preferred younger girls. Emily knew this, and that it was this despicable excuse for a man that was coming for this poor girl now.

"Minora…I'm sorry I can't get you out of this situation…even if I were to stand up for you her would just kill me and take you anyway…but I do have something that will help you."

"A…are you going to…kill me?" Minora asked, taking Emily by surprise. She stared at the frightened girl for a moment before smiling lightly.

"I would never hurt you, sweetheart. But take this now and…" she was cut off by the door slamming open revealing a rather short Asian man. He had a hungry look in his eyes as he ordered Emily out of the room before she could give her the Vivance that she had in her pocket. She tried to hand it to the poor girl where Mr. Sho couldn't see it, but Mr. Sho was as impatient as he was repulsive, and she was forced out of the room by one of the man's goons. Emily looked back at Minora, once more crying as the man advanced on her before the door closed. Tears beginning to stream down her face, Emily wrenched her arms free of the man behind her and glared at him, standing in silence as he stood between her and the door. His eyes were closed, as if he were pretending he weren't there…that none of this was happening. Emily knew this man hated his job ust as much as she did. She waited for Minora to scream in pain…but was surprised when it never came.

"Wait…what the hell?!" came the confused and scared voice of Mr. Sho instead. This was followed by a horrible scream before the bodyguard turned and swung the door wide, stopping in his tracks as he and Emily looked inside. Emily had to admit that what she saw was one of the most terrifying things she had ever witnessed. Blood covered the now open door, as well as pretty much everything else in the room. On the floor was Mr. Sho, very much dead with slash marks on his chest and a red soul floating over him. Right in front of him was Minora, sitting and crying in the fetal position. The dress was soaked in blood and ripped at the hip, and from the girl's left arm protruded a curved blade that went from about the middle of her forearm and up to just past her shoulder. Her fingers now also seemed to be tipped with razor sharp spikes. All of these were covered in blood.

"Dear god…" the bodyguard muttered, backing out of the room slowly before turning on his heel and sprinting down the hallway, screaming his head off for help. Meanwhile, Emily just gawked at the scene, speechless.

_"She…she's a Weapon?"_ she thought, slowly entering the room so as to not startle the girl. She felt the blood on her feet as she stepped through it, noting how it was still warm. She wasn't afraid but she was still cautious – after all, she wasn't in any mood to get carved up. Minora looked up at Emily in between sobs, the sight of her causing her arm to flash back to normal. She stood slowly before finally bursting into full blown tears, rushing forward and hugging Emily tightly around the waist. Emily couldn't help but hold her back; from what she could tell the girl hadn't even been aware that she was a Weapon.

"Shh…shh…it's okay. It's okay I've got you don't worry. It'll be fine…I promise…" Emily said, trying to calm the girl despite the fact that she didn't really believe it herself. She didn't know what was going to happen now but she knew that, whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good.

_One Year Later_

Minora sat in quiet solitude, waiting for the man that would escort her to the "arena." After she had killed that pervert Mr. Sho, she had once again traded hands, this time as an exotic "Weapon" girl. Eventually, she came into the hands of a man that called himself the "Grand Master." He held battles, or events as he called them, for people to gamble on. The battles would be fought by just about anyone, but Weapons were usually where the money was. The Weapons here were typically those who had given up on living, or had gone insane and wanted nothing more than to feel the blood of their enemies on their hands. Almost all of them, like Minora, had been bought and trained to fight here. Minora herself had been taught a small variety of martial arts that worked with her Weapon form, which she had slowly been learning to use with deadly efficiency.

"Time to go girlie," came the voice of a man on the other side of her door, followed by three sharp taps, "it's a special fight tonight." Slowly, as if time itself had slowed, Minora stood. She didn't respond to the man as she left the room, nor as she walked away. She wore a black tee-shirt, the blood stains on it only barely visible, that was a few sizes too large for her. Over this she wore an open jacket, the left arm torn to shreds, and covering her legs was a pair of jeans. She was denied shoes, but she didn't need them anyway.

"Still ain't sure how a little girl like you can fight like you do," said the man, following her up a dark hallway to a wooden door. She recognized the muffled sound on the other side as the cheering of the crowd, and knew that plenty of people had arrived for this event. She didn't answer the man, and who could blame her? She had learned in the short time after losing her family that she could trust no one, especially the monsters here. It was best to stay silent. With a deep breath, Minora opened the door and stepped into the arena.

"Here she is ladies and gentlemen!" came a voice over a loudspeaker, echoing into the darkness of the night. What appeared to be miniature stadium lights lit up the path she walked surrounded on either side by a roaring crowd that, despite their excitement, gave Minora a wide berth. She passed by a few rows of stands that sat on all sides of what equated to a dirt pit. As she walked her eyes darted to and fro, looking for any way she could escape. She was going to get away tonight, she had already decided. She was strong enough to beat anyone they brought against her now, so no one would be able to stand in her way. The only problem was _how_ she was going to go about it. With a flash her arm transformed, blade coming from her forearm and fingertips becoming like talons. She would fight this fight – this "special fight" – and escape when the crowd got rowdy, as they did every time. She would do it…or she would die trying.


	8. Let's Get it On! A Dark Man Approaches?

Minora waited for her opponent to be revealed, listening to the cheers and shouts of the crowd around her. She knew these lowlifes and vagabonds had no respect for her. No, they feared her, like sheep fear the wolf. They feared her for her power; for what she could do to them if given the chance…for what she _wanted_ to do to each and every one of them. And this was exactly what she wanted them to do – she wanted them to think her a monster. An animal. A wolf amongst sheep. The girls eyes darted to her left when she saw someone enter the ring, and in moments she was standing face-to-face with the Grand Master.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said, grinning his disgusting grin. When most people heard of the Grand Master, they thought of some mafia big shot that ran the underground fighting scene. If asked, the layman would assume the Grand Master a fat, sleazy kind of man that did nothing but sit in an expensive leather seat while counting stacks of cash and greasing back his hair. Minora knew, from first-hand experience, that the layman would be wrong. Granted, the Grand Master _was_ a big shot, but he wasn't some greasy lay about. He was a large man, but his size wasn't the result of fat, but well-toned muscle from years of physical training. Minora was sure that, were they to measure it, the man's bicep would be larger around than she was. The Grand Master towered over everyone in the area, and wore a pair of slacks but no shirt (unless one counted the red hoodie tied around his waist) and no shoes. On his face was a pair of dark, pointed sunglasses and an equally dark and pointed black goatee, though he sported no hair atop his head save for a short ponytail at the back. He turned and raised his arms to the crowd, riling them up, and Minora saw the tattoo that ran across his shoulder blades that read "Fly Free, Die Free." There was a flash and his arm took the form of a heavy looking stone Warhammer, showing that he too was a Weapon.

"The prodigy child, my little Minora," the Grand Master said, a sarcastic smirk emphasizing the scar on his upper lip. Minora scowled at him, saying nothing. He laughed loudly at her before continuing.

"Strong and silent as always, Ms. Scaife?" his words made her blood boil, and she had to force herself not to rush him. The Grand Master saw the anger in her eyes and his smirk only got wider.

"Save it for the fight, little one. Neither I, nor any of the people out here, care if you abandoned that name. It's what I bought you under; it's what you're called. Got it?" Again, Minora made no reply as the man turned on her, catching a microphone that was thrown into the arena from the crowd.

"All right you sick, depraved motherfuckers. Listen up!" he started, inciting a veritable riot from the people around him, "Tonight, I got a _real_ special fight for ya! Hope you got your wallets ready and if not…well…the fuck are you doing in my arena?!" More cheering, louder than before, followed as the Grand Master held his arms wide as if he were basking in some sort of glorious sunshine.

_"Yeah yeah. You keep working up that crowd you sick bastard,"_ Minora thought angrily, clenching her hands in fists and ignoring the biting pain in her left palm.

"On this side!" the Grand Master cried, pointing the microphone at Minora, the girl wondering whether or not the bid oaf actually needed the thing with his big mouth, "We have the Beautiful Blade, the Deadly Whisper, Minora Scaife!" The entire crowd exploded in cheers as the man held the last syllable of her name. This wasn't surprising to her, as she was one of the longest surviving challengers the Grand Master had. Her name was a product of her speed and efficiency in battle.

"I don't understand," Minora heard nearby, "What's this girl do that's so special?" This voice was quickly answered by another, annoyed by such a silly question.

"You really are a dumbass, aren't you? That's Minora, the Deadly Whisper! The Beautiful Blade!"

"So? What's that got to do with anything?" asked the voice, and another voice, different from the last, answered.

"After every fight, she whispers something in the ear of her opponent. She's a legend around here, and in her own time no less!"

"That doesn't sound so special to me…"

_"That's because it's not…"_ thought Minora sourly. There was nothing special about ending another life She hated it…every single night she hated it…and it was her family's fault that she was in this position. If her grandfather had paid what he owed…she'd still be at home. Safe. It was because of this she abandoned her family name.

"And on this side!" the Grand Master continued, snapping Minora back to reality, "You're really gonna like this guy, folks. Bought him straight out of Lost Soul Asylum, an institute for _criminally insane Weapons!_ Please welcome…Prisoner 2112389!" At that, the crowd on the other end of the circle parted, making a path for three men; a man in what appeared to be a full-body straight jacket, and two others dragging him along from his armpits. Minora could see, between the man's shoulder blades, a pin that she assumed would release the man when it was time to fight. The two men dropped him on his knees hard before melting into the crowd. Minora rolled her eyes at the overelaborate way they brought in her challenger and looked away. She'd fought insane men before, and they fell just as easily as any other. However, as Minora looked away, someone caught her attention. Something about him just seemed…different. For one, he wasn't cheering like all the idiots around him. Secondly, she noticed that he was dressed much better than the others, sporting a black suit and red tie. He seemed too refined…too out of place for an event like this one. And, lastly, she noticed that he wasn't staring at the newcomer as was expected. Instead, his attention was on her, blood red eyes focusing on hers as a smile spread on his face, revealing pointed canines.

_"Who…"_ she thought, gaze unwavering for a moment. Then she blinked her eyes and as soon as she had seen him he was gone. Had he really been there…or was he just a figment of her imagination? She didn't have time to find the answers, thought, as the Grand Master stepped out of the arena, pulling the pin on her opponent's back as a steel cage was lowered around them, keeping them from escaping.

"Let's get it on!" the Grand Master cried. Minora shook her head and took a stance, waiting and watching as the man's arms slacken and fall to his sides, but still he didn't move. Minora wasn't sure what was going on, but stayed ready for anything. The crowd began to quiet, and she heard one man yell out.

"What? Is this it?" he asked, and was answered right after, the air tearing with insane laughter. Still motionless, Prisoner 2112389 laughed almost violently, tremors just barely coursing through his frame with each guffaw. The blade on Minora's arm flipped forward, a move she learned she could do a few months before, and prepared for anything.

"Die die die die die….die…" the man began to chant to the tune "Ring around the Rosie." The effect was chilling, and for a brief second Minora hesitated. The man's head moved ever so slightly, so that Minora would see his eyes through holes cut in the part of the jack covering his head. She glared, knowing it was only a matter of time now and, just as she predicted, he attacked. His head was cocked to the side for a moment, as if he were confused, he rushed, arms of his jacket flailing behind him as he charged. Now his chant had lost its tune, and he was merely screaming the word "die" over and over again. Spikes erupted from his body in irregular intervals, ripping and destroying parts of the jacket. The part covering his head only stayed barely intact, brown hair streaming out from open portions while his eyes, still mostly covered, were glinting with madness. He leaped, arms held back ready for the strike, but he didn't get far. There were groans of protest as the fight, which had only just started, seemed to meet its end. Quick as lightning, Minora had dodged the man's spike covered arms as they had come down on her, and then jumped back as his body followed. She could make out an insane grin on his face despite the material covering it, and he rushed her again, but she had already begun her own counterattack. Just as quickly as she had dodged his first attack, Minora dodged the second, taking two quick steps around and driving her blade into his chest, where she had learned infallibly where the heart was located.

"I'm sorry…" she whispered to him as he coughed, blood coming from his mouth and soaking into the material over his mouth. For a moment the two locked eyes, and Minora was somewhat thankful to see that some of the sanity had come back to his eyes. His hazel eyes seemed to be thanking her, as the spikes began to retract, and Minora felt slight pain that told her she hadn't escaped this fight unscathed. Then, with a dull flash, the spikes were gone. Minora changed her arm as well and slowly laid him down, his breathing harsh as he coughed up more blood.

"I'm sorry…" she said again, taking off the rags around his head and letting him breathe better. He coughed again, blood getting on her cheek, but she didn't care at this point. She saw the faintest hint of a smile on his face before he gave one last labored sigh and became very still. She closed his eyes just before his soul, pure and blue despite his insanity, floated up from his body before it disappeared in a mass of swirling ribbons. Around her, the crowd still groaned and cursed at her, both from how quickly the battle ended and from the several bets that had undoubtedly been lost. She didn't notice them, nor did she notice the Grand Master when he proclaimed her the winner and the cage was lifted. All she noticed was that the man she had seen before was back, standing in the shadows. And he was smiling.

_Inside the Grand Masters Office_

Minora stood in a black dress and heels, both things that reminded her of happier times in her life. Next to her, sitting in a rather nice and expensive looking desk, was the Grand Master, now wearing the red hoodie from before. Standing before the two was a well-dressed man, wearing a black suit and red tie. Minora recognized him the moment he had walked in, but now she could get a good look at him. Underneath the jacket was a white dress shirt, and the insides of the jacket happened to be blood red, like his eyes. His face was fully shaven and his cheeks were sunken in somewhat. It didn't make him look gaunt, but it did make his cheekbones stand out. His hair was slicked back and practically shining, but Minora could see that, just under the black color of it, there was grey showing. He had a sly smirk on his face.

"All right. Lemme get this straight," the Grand Master started, amusement in his tone, "You sayin' that you're here to take Minora, my prize fighter?"

"Well," the man replied, voice low and dark, with a silken quality that was not lost in his heavy accent, "I am willing to pay as much as you want." At this, he produced a handful of gold coins, which he let fall from his hand in a slow, noisy torrent. The Grand Master picked one up and looked at it for a moment before letting it clatter on the table with its brothers.

"I don't know how you got real gold coins, man, but these look pretty old. You a king or somethin'?"

"Something like that," was his reply. Then, the Grand Master stood and transformed his arm into a huge hammer with a spike on one end.

"Get outta here pal, before I show you…" he was cut off when he howled in pain, collapsing over his desk.

"Oh I don't think you understand me, sir. I'm taking the girl, regardless of what you want," said the man as he slid down from his desk and onto the floor. It reverted back to normal, and Minora was shocked to see that it was bent at an odd angle – broken.

_"I didn't even see him move…_" she thought, suddenly terrified. She looked up at the man before her to see that his eyes were now practically glowing red, his hand outstretched to her.

"Time to go, little one."


	9. Final Chapter! Minora Meets Erik?

_Three Years Later_

"Come, Minora. We have a visitor," said her Master, the dark man that had taken her away from a life of fighting and brought her something closer to normal. But it wasn't truly normal and she knew it. Sure, her new life was one of comfort – three meals a day (though her Master would never eat), a roof over her head, and even nice clothes; currently she was wearing a black dress with a design in the shape of an outline of an Oriental Dragon twisting around her body in gold thread with matching heels. But, despite all these "good" things, her Master was in no way a good man – on the contrary he was, if anything, pure evil. He had taught her everything she needed to know about souls, including the way her Soul Wavelength worked, and he made it a habit to call her "love," but she knew he only did all this to forward his own cursed agenda. And, after three years of living in Castle Transylvania with this man, she had become able to see his own wavelength. It was a thing that seemed to always surround him in a sort of sphere, if only lightly. She could also feel it throughout the castle, like a mist that was hiding something truly sinister at its source. In all honesty, she wasn't afraid of the man as she had been initially, but of the power that seemed to seep out of his every pore. It was something she knew needed to be avoided…something dark and dangerous.

"Minora? Love?" the man asked, stopping and turning to look at her with his deadly red eyes, full of what could have easily been mistaken as concern, but she knew it was nothing more than amusement. It was at about this point that she noticed she had stopped following him, and quickly made her way to his side. He smiled and kept walking.

"Your soul withstands my influence quite well. Such is the power of a Pure Soul, I suppose." He made no effort to his the fact that, since he had brought her here, he had been trying to infect her with his power, something he called the "Dark Wavelength." He was having very little success. It was only recently that she had begun to feel the power mix itself with her own wavelength, but still it would not reach her soul itself. This was something that she was grateful for, though she still didn't understand what he meant by "Pure Soul."

"It would seem so, Master," she said quietly, mimicking his footsteps as they walked through the foyer of the castle toward the great hall doors. The room was filled with people, all of them dressed in formal attire, and all of them doing what Minora assumed anyone would do at a high class gathering: dancing, drinking wine (Minora noticed that the glasses held no liquid) and eating at tables spread around the room (none of which held any food). From a distance, these people looked like they were having a good time, but Minora knew better; they weren't even alive. Up close, she would have been able to see the way their eyes were clouded over and sunk into their skulls, and how they were so skinny and brittle looking that it seemed a simple breeze would be enough to blow them away. Thralls – that's what her Master, Count Dracula of Transylvania, called them. And Minora knew that it was the same power that saturated this place that kept their corpses animated, even though their blood had been drained and their souls devoured.

"Wait here, love. Our visitor is just outside…I'll handle him," her Master said with a smile, which she just answered with a curt nod. He stepped forward and he doors opened of their own accord, and outside she could see that the sky was a lifeless grey color, and she knew it would storm soon. There was a boy outside, wearing a nice suit, and Minora could just barely tell that his eyes were amber in color, almost gold. She also noticed the three white stripes on the left side of his hair. In his hands were two pistols, which he held upside down, pinkies wrapped around the triggers. Words were exchanged between the boy and her Master, but she didn't hear them. There was a flux in her Master's wavelength, and she watched as the two pistols turned into two women. They walked up to Dracula and allowed him to wrap his arms around their waists as he turned and brought them into the castle, leaving the boy staring hopelessly after them in shock.

_"So, he's got two more girls under his spell…"_ Minora thought as the doors closed and the girls collapsed in his arms. This was likely another trick of his power.

"We'll take them to your quarters, I think, if the little Shinigami doesn't come after them…" he said, licking his lips as he eyed both of them hungrily. He passed the shorter of the two, who had short blonde hair and childish features, to Minora, who held her with ease despite her smallish frame.

"I suppose I have a snack for later, as well. Dress them in the other dresses like yours and then bring them to the throne room. They should be waking soon," he said, and as if on cue the two began to stir. Luckily, Minora and her Master had been walking the entire time he spoke, so they were already just outside of Minora's room. They took them inside and lay them down on the bed. The one her Master was carrying, the long, light brown haired one, stirred more and began muttering.

"Kid…where are we?" Dracula said nothing, disappearing from the room so quickly one would be hard pressed to say whether or not he had been there at all.

"Patti…" the girl continued, opening her eyes slowly and looking over to the blonde, who was also beginning to stir.

"Don't worry," Minora said quietly, old habits trying to kick in, "You'll…you'll be fine…" Patti looked over to the other girl, eyes barely open.

"Ane-chan…Liz…?" she said, before grimacing and holding a hand to her head. Minora knew they didn't have much time, so she left them and went to the closet and produced two dresses, similar to her own.

"Listen…um…put these on…" she said, putting the dresses on the bed before gripping the night stand, trying to keep her balance as she felt her Master's power surge, obviously impatient.

"Don't worry about anything…everything will be…fine…" Minora said, a purple haze clouding her vision, and the last thing she remembered thinking was that she knew she was lying…that everything wouldn't be all right. Then, she blacked out.

_Meanwhile…_

Dracula sat in his throne with an overly pleased look on his face. He was looking forward to his meal, and what was more he had succeeded in bending Minora to his will.

"That cursed Pure Soul of hers keeps me from turning her…what a bother," he said, not even flinching when a flash of light heralded the arrival of a woman in black robes. Her hair was almost as black as the material she wore, and her eyes were a dark violet color.

"Ah, and to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Shining Witch?" Dracula asked, leaning forward in his chair and putting his hands together on his lap.

"I take it you've made no progress with the girl?" the witch asked curtly, looking around the room for a moment before taking a few steps forward.

"Very little, at least," answered Dracula in a disappointed sigh, "she won't eat the souls I offer her. Quite the obstinate one on that matter."

"You don't try hard enough."

"Well, we can't all play on the hormones of the young, can we?" asked Dracula, sneering, "Besides, she is much too young for my tastes, and hardly the right type. Too strong…and also too timid. A strange one, really." The witch said nothing at this, but scowled at him and stayed silent for a while, staring him down. He merely smiled widely at her.

"Well then, as to why I'm here," she said finally.

"Because you missed my company, of course," said Dracula before she could continue, chuckling to himself.

"No…I've released Erik and he has forsaken me and gone to that wretched Academy. He learned to somehow "repair" his soul…quite a nuisance." At this Dracula laughed out loud, eyes wide with amusement.

"So you mean to say that, after all those years of work, his soul has reverted back to a Pure Soul?"

"No, surprisingly. It has become a regular soul."

"So he's…impressionable then?"

"If you so wish. That's actually why I'm here. He's on the way now, on a mission, and I want you to turn him."

"Well, I can try but it's not that simple."

"Whatever. Make it happen. I want him to see that, once he is tied to the darkness, he can't escape it," she snapped back at him before turning around, walking away as light began to gather around her.

"Ah, so the scorned lover comes out at last. I've seen it a thousand times," Dracula said, smiling. She glared at him for a moment before the light consumed her, and in a flash she was gone. Dracula sat back in his chair and laughed, and just as he did so Minora, Liz and Patti stepped into the room, their eyes glazed.

"Ah good, you've arrived. There's been a change of plans,"

_Sometime later…_

Minora came to and found herself sitting before her Master. He was sitting on his throne and looking past her to two boys. One was the one she had seen earlier, the apparent Shinigami, but the other was new. He had long brown hair that spiked down his back, and eyes so light blue that they almost seemed white. He had a smirk on his face and was positioned to fight, his stance low with his left arm held at his side like a claw. She could feel his wavelength was focused there and, just from the look on his face, she knew he was here to fight her Master. Her control was fading quickly, and she knew he would make her defend him and probably kill the boy in the process. That was too bad…she didn't want to kill anymore.

"You know, I expected you to be wearing something more…Victorian, Count," the long haired boy said, his tone sarcastic and confident. Minora couldn't help but like the sound of it.

"Well," her Master began, removing the pair of sunglasses he was wearing, revealing his blood red eyes, "I thought it would be best to go with the times. And, as you can see, it has not only attracted one girl, but three." He stood then, smiling wide and revealing his fangs.

"I see you got through the reception party…now the real party can begin. Right, ladies?" Minora felt her control slip completely and, as her vision clouded over, she heard herself speak.

"Yes, Master."

When she came to for the second time, Minora found herself lying on the floor. Next to her was the boy, bloodied and beaten. Dracula was nowhere to be found and she knew that, through some miracle, they had defeated her Master.

_"No…"_ she thought weakly, feeling the fatigue from a fight she couldn't even recall, _"He's not my Master…not anymore…his darkness may still taint me…but he can no longer control me."_ With the last of her fading strength, she looked up at the boy before her.

_"Because…he saved me…_"


	10. Author's Note

To those that made it this far,

Thank you for taking the time to read through this story again. I felt it was time to revise and repost, and so I did. Next I will be working on "Witches Man, Witches," to fix some continuity problems, but I will post it as soon as I get the chance. Again, thank you, and keep a look out for new stuff. For those who are new to this saga, please give it a chance, I'm sure you won't regret it.

Your humble entertainer,

Allen Bedillion Trahurn


End file.
